#jamfiction

[hanbeihood]

AELITA (CODE LYOKO) - La Chanson #JamFiction SAISON 2

[me-thal]

OKAY I'M SORRY THIS IS IN FRENCH BUT

OMG I'M SCREAMING

[kanetou]

1457 words, written for the daiya secret santa

finally living up to my url LOL... for the sake of ppl on mobile tumblr i probably won't host my writing here anymore, just post the ao3 link. pls enjoy~ 

[kanetou]

nail polish // furuharu

furuharu, 914 words, featuring demigirl furuya! written to make a dear friend feel better <3 

ao3 link here! 

Miyuki might have been the one to suggest nail polish to Furuya in the first place, to strengthen their nails, but it was Haruichi who ventured that perhaps they could use different coloured polishes. The topic had arose when they were sat together on a breezy summer afternoon, the canopy of the tree they rested under still allowing the sunlight to shine through, speckled and warm and wholesome. Haruichi sat in Furuya’s lap, as he always preferred to, and their hands were clasped together, like they so often were. Haruichi liked to examine the other’s hands, partially out of his concern for Furuya, ensuring they were taking care of themselves and that they weren’t causing any damage with their heavy pitching – but partially just because he loved to explore their hands. They were so much bigger than his own slender digits; rough and calloused from their years of baseball, they were by no means soft, and yet Furuya’s touches against his skin were some of the most tender he’d ever experienced.    

“Your nails are so strong and neat now,” he sighed, with an almost wistful tone in his voice. “You put polish on them, right?”

“Yeah,” came the reply, and it was delayed as always; Haruichi had grown accustomed to waiting for a response after anything he said. “Miyuki-senpai said it’ll stop them from breaking.”

“Mm, it’s working… Have you ever tried any different colours?” the shorter of them ventured, which was followed by a longer pause than usual, prompting him to tilt his head up and look back at Furuya, pink hair falling away from his eyes.

“… You can do that?” they said, and there was a glimmer of hopefulness in their eyes that Haruichi wasn’t used to – that look mixed with their general unawareness filled him with endeared emotions, and he nodded quickly, giving them a rather radiant smile.

“Of course you can! Hmm… I’ll just be a moment, Satoru-kun,” he promised, climbing out of their lap and dusting himself off. “Think about your favourite colour while I’m gone, okay?”

Furuya might have had a tinge of confusion to their expression now, but they didn’t object, and Haruichi really was gone for but a moment before he returned, clutching a small bag in one hand. When he settled down, he didn’t resume his position in their lap; instead, he settled down across from them, cross-legged and beaming as he unzipped the bag.

“So what colour do you want, Satoru-kun?” he asked, looking up at them again. Furuya glanced down at the bag, seeing that it was filled with little jars of nail polish, in any colour that they could have imagined. But they knew their answer already, even if they were a little bit hesitant to reveal it, biting down on their lower lip before speaking.

“P…Pink. Like this,” they murmured, and to illustrate their point, they lifted a hand to gently grab a few strands of Haruichi’s light hair, rolling it between their fingertips. It was like candyfloss, they’d always thought, framing the boy’s face and falling into his eyes, though they knew very well by now that beneath the fringe of light hair, his irises were a matching and equally gorgeous pink. Haruichi let out a quiet laugh at the tender movement, and allowed himself a moment to lean into the touch, nothing but affection and happiness running through his body at that point in time.

“Okay, pink like my hair,” he agreed happily, rifling through the little bag until he found a bottle that resembled the pigment, shuffling closer to Furuya. “Give me your hand, please…”

Haruichi’s hands were as steady and precise as everything else he did, holding onto the other’s larger one carefully once he’d uncapped the bottle of nail polish. His strokes were swift and accurate, and he didn’t speak as he did it, but that was alright – they were both quiet individuals, and the silence was comfortable. Beyond that, Furuya was busy thinking as they watched him paint their nails, thinking about how… okay this all was. How they could paint their nails if they wanted to and nobody would think anything of it, and it didn’t matter if they weren’t a girl or they were kind of a girl or they weren’t anything like that, it was just okay. And although their expression didn’t change too much, they closed their eyes and felt the corners of their mouth tugging up just a bit, their cheeks resembling the colour that was being so intricately placed upon their fingernails.

They might have almost dozed off, were it not for Haruichi blowing on their fingertips, which caused them to curl them back slightly, the sensation soft and ticklish. Haruichi smiled up at them, drawing his own hand back so that they could admire his handiwork together.

“I think it looks nice,” he chirped, and Furuya quickly jerked their head in an agreeing nod as they held their hand up, gazing at their neat and now pastel pink fingertips. They felt so touched by the gesture, and while the happiness wasn’t massively apparent on their face, the gaze that they regarded their boyfriend with was full of affection.

“Thank you, Haruichi,” they said, and the boy just let out a gentle giggle that was as beautiful as birdsong to their ears. Furuya pulled Haruichi into their lap without a second of hesitation, and it all felt so right, and they felt warmer than any Tokyo summer day. 

[kanetou]

drizzle // furuharu

furuharu, 1471 words, "kisses in the rain" prompt from twitter

i don't know how to format yet, please bear with me LOL

ao3 link here!

Sudden, light drizzles were a nuisance for most people, but for the members of the Seidou baseball team, they came as a welcome change to the hot weather. They were always more than committed enough to continue their practice anyway, come rain or shine… but it wasn’t ideal once the sky began to turn a stormier grey, the rumbling skies and slippery ground beginning to feel quite far removed from the warm, dry baseball fields that made them feel so at home. When the thunder grew louder and lightning began to flash along the horizon, some players headed towards the indoor practice areas, but it wasn’t until the heavens really opened up and the rain grew merciless that they all scrambled for cover.

Haruichi was among those stragglers, having been in the middle of fretting over the handle of his wooden bat that was now slick from rainwater; by the time he glanced up, the majority of his teammates had already made it halfway across the field. His plan was to head somewhere drier and then continue practicing, but as he began to jog he noticed a familiar tall figure, one that made his heart flutter more than any jolting clap of thunder ever could. Furuya didn’t seem to be heading anywhere; he stood just outside of the fields with his cap in one hand, away from the sight of most of the other players dashing towards the practice areas, head tilted upwards to the swelling sky above that was still visible through the lush canopy of the tree he stood under. His expression was as vacant as ever, eyes half closed, not showing any positive or negative emotions – although he’d never been the most expressive fellow, Haruichi supposed with a small smile to himself. The direction he’d been walking changed before he even consciously registered it, approaching the pitcher and raising his hand in a shy greeting. Furuya acknowledged it by turning his body ever so slightly towards him, which was a good start, in all honesty; the entire team had heard Sawamura’s raging about the tall boy ignoring him. But he’d never dream of ignoring Haruichi – he knew that much, and it made his stomach do a funny little flip.

“Furuya-kun, aren’t you going inside to practice?” he ventured, shifting and leaning against his bat as he peered up at him. He could see that he was soaked, dark hair damp and clinging to his head, droplets of rain running down his nose and tracing along his jawline. “It’s wet, and everybody else went in…” 

The response came after a slight delay, as it always did, and Haruichi couldn’t help but smile a bit once again. Even with the background noise of heavy rain, ominous thunder, and distant voices, you could practically hear the cogs in his brain whirring, registering that he was being spoken to, and that a reply was expected of him. His social skills were stunted at best, and rude at worst, but Haruichi had long since accepted it as the lonely boy’s social awkwardness; by now it was endearing to him more than anything. Furuya really did try his best.

“Miyuki-senpai said to meet him, but… in a minute. I want to stay out here.”

“Out here, in the rain?” the shorter boy repeated, a questioning tone in his voice. “Aren’t you cold…?” 

“No, it’s nice. It’s not hot for once…” came the reply from the Hokkaido native, and, oh. Haruichi gave him an understanding nod. He worried for his teammate during the hot Tokyo summer, more than aware that he was about as tolerant of the heat as his adored polar bears were. 

“That makes sense… well, I’ll stay with you for a bit, then.” Haruichi nodded again and offered him a bashful glance, daring to step closer, heat rising to his cheeks. “It is cold, though…”

“You’re cold?” Furuya tilted his head to the side at that – Haruichi could feel his gaze surveying over him, which only served to make his cheeks heat up more. “But your face is red.” 

“That’s—!” He heard a slight squeak in his voice, blush deepening even further as it was pointed out, flustered within a moment. “That’s, um… just because I was jogging!” 

“Oh… I see…” Furuya accepted the explanation without question, and Haruichi couldn’t help  but feel a slight sting of disappointment, letting out a little sigh as he glanced across the field. They remained silent for a few more moments, but it was an amicable kind of silence, basking in the simplicity of one another’s company. Haruichi found that his gaze and thoughts were constantly dragged back to the boy standing with him, and on more than one occasion, he could have sworn that he felt his gaze burning into him, as well.

He wanted to spend more time with the pitcher above anything else, but he really was cold, huddled into his jersey and standing as close to the other as he could without being conspicuous. He was close to suggesting that they retreat inside, but he was caught off guard when Furuya was the one to break the quietness before he could, and it was his words that took him even more by surprise.

To be specific, it was the first word he said:  “Haruichi.” It was uttered so softly, but his voice came through the rainfall as clear as anything, and the unfamiliar yet pleasant sound of the syllables rolling off of Furuya’s tongue was enough to make the shorter of them look up at him immediately, his cheeks rapidly turning pinker than his hair. There was a somewhat shy quality to his tone, one that Haruichi hadn’t heard before, but he didn’t stumble over the name. It was as if he’d been preparing himself to say it, almost, and he continued in the same quiet voice, keeping his gaze fixed on the person in front of him. “… Your lips look blue.”

Haruichi supposed that was no particular surprise; even under the tree’s cover, he felt soaked through to the bone after standing outside for so long. A thought occurred to him at the comment, but before he could open his mouth to venture, Furuya-kun, why were you looking at my lips…?, a warm mouth was pressed against his own.

That gave him his answer, in retrospect. But at the time, all he could focus on was the fact that he was being kissed, their lips moving against one another’s in a way that was decidedly clumsy and inexperienced, but sweet and meaningful nonetheless. And Furuya was so warm, he couldn’t help but press into it, seeking the warmth and passion that was thinly veiled under his stoic exterior. Being kissed wasn’t a sensation he was at all familiar with, but he knew that he could get used to it soon enough if they continued like this. Though it came to an end quite soon, the pleasant and warm feeling didn’t fade, and Haruichi felt himself longing to refresh his scattered mind of the curvature of Furuya’s lips again at once.

They were left staring at one another for a few long, albeit comfortable moments, both as flushed as the other, the kiss having chased away any concerns about the downpour surrounding them. Haruichi broke the silence this time with a nervous giggle, and though Furuya didn’t respond with a laugh of his own, the corners of his mouth certainly turned upwards.  

“Your lips aren’t blue anymore,” he commented, causing Haruichi to lift a hand to his mouth a tad self-consciously, pressing a finger against his lower lip, which now had a pleasant tingling running through it. 

“They aren’t,” he agreed with a soft tone, peering up at Furuya through his long bangs. “Even so, ah… I still feel a little cold… do you mind if we… do that again?”

Furuya didn’t answer with words, having always been the sort to do rather than explain, choosing instead to lean down and kiss him once again, and after he had begun, neither could bring themselves to stop. Their second kiss chased the last of their coldness away entirely; the third taught them that the utmost care should be taken to ensure that neither noses nor teeth bump against each other; the fourth taught them that tongues were an interesting addition to the medley of affection and passion.

And the fifth, well; the fifth taught them that unless you want to be caught in an embarrassing situation, you really shouldn’t leave your senpai wondering where on earth you’ve gotten to, because he will come looking for you. And he will laugh at you. Excessively so.

However, they soon learned that they didn’t really mind that enough to not steal their sixth kiss from each other as they traipsed behind Miyuki on their way to the inside practice fields.